Birth
by DrosselmeyerWrites
Summary: He could wield steel and fang against death, but the tiny hands of a human child would lay him bare and and strip him of who he had been.


Something changed almost as soon as he returned the breath to her small, broken body.

Sesshoumaru watched with an internal denial of intrigue as the light slowly returned to the child's eyes. Her dark gaze, only moments before dulled by the sightless sheen of death, flashed with shock as she locked onto his face and adjusted to life once again sweeping through her.

Beyond his control, his gut wrenched, responding to the swell of her anxiety as it washed over him, and he instinctively tightened his hold around her small frame. Panic warred with her breathing, and for a moment concern that she would stop grappled with his apathy.

Concern won.

He held her gaze, Tenseiga burning at his hip while the blood resumed its normal rush through her veins. She warmed under his touch, the white pallor of death melting away as she pinked up, held close to his chest. He cocked his head to the side, listening to the steady _whoosh_ of her life force once again flowing as it should.

What a curious thing it was to watch her surge back to life, _feel_ the pulse of its evidence hammer against his own body. Her limbs twitched and jumped as sensation returned, a grimace of discomfort contorting her face as she once again became acclimated to something so simple as feeling. Touch.

The urge to smooth away her pained look suddenly appeared, and it disturbed him when he realized that he might have if he had still had the use of two arms.

Somewhere in the background Jaken caterwauled about some nonsense or another, but he ignored the imp in favor of the reviving anomaly he held. Cocking his head back to the other side, he watched her more closely, the almost foreign sensation of a smile pulling at his mouth when her head mimicked his.

The awakening child had not once looked away from his eyes, her panic-stricken stare laced with a confusion that demanded the attention of his. For some strange, incommunicable reason, he could not begrudge her that. So, Sesshoumaru watched, and he saw the moment her confusion transformed into the guileless expression of what could only be offered by a humble, naive child. _Trust._

And then he was overwhelmed.

Death's scent faded, forced out by something he couldn't identify. It was strange. Intoxicating. _Boozy. _He felt his breath catch as a somnolent warmth washed over him, making him drowsy and flushed. And for a moment, it was as if he were drunk. It permeated his senses and gripped at his core. He was lightheaded, disconnected with his surroundings. His other knee crashed to the earth, grounding him somewhat as the breath sucked from his lungs and refused to return.

Still, neither of them looked away.

The back of a long, clawed finger brushed down her cheek, and she didn't flinch away.

Such a strange creature. She was meaningless scrap of nothing thrown from the table of life, and she was held in the arm of one who could devour her in a single snap of his jaws. But there was no fear there in her eyes.

A_ scrap—_a fearless scrap who dared to gaze back and face the truth of what he was. She was a scrap who touched and nursed one who was feared without question, no matter how trivial her efforts. Just a _scrap_. A weak, innocent _scrap_ who misplaced her trust.

The breath he forgot he was holding began to return.

Suddenly, a little pink hand reached up and grasped the edge of his kimono, her desperate grip pressing filthy, innocent fingers against his flesh. They pierced like knives, and he began to emit a low sound, resonating from deep within his chest. Her eyes widened at the unexpected vibration against her skin, but she still didn't shy away, and even he was unsure whether it was a warning or something else.

So, he simply stared at her and watched curiously as her gaze dropped to consider her hand, observing as it moved with the returned rise and fall of his chest. She said nothing—_did nothing—_except quietly watch, the once again life-filled eyes unnerving in their reflection.

And he waited.

Minutes or hours passed, but she finally looked up and sought his eyes, her inquisitiveness bleeding into determination when she found him still staring back. And he watched as a silent challenge burst forth, too big for such a tiny girl. The small mouth that had never uttered a word in his presence pressed into a firm, flat line as she willfully embraced his scrutiny. She was a still a scrap, but her grit burned from somewhere deep within like a stubborn phoenix in the ashes of its pyre.

Sesshoumaru wondered at her thoughts. In truth, she also wondered at his. And then there was a single soul-clenching moment that stretched into eternity where a silent understanding passed between them.

All at once, the pique of anxiety rose in _him._ But she saw it and, never breaking his gaze, she flattened her dirty palm directly over his heart and pushed.

_Pushed_.

He reeled back, and she held her little life-filled hand against his skin, daring once again to touch what no others had_._ And that was it.

_Something_ cracked open.

* * *

**A/N: A bit deeper look into the moment Sesshoumaru revives Rin. I've always loved how in the anime it shows Jaken squawking while Rin and Sesshoumaru are in their own little world just staring at each other. Liberties taken with the details of that moment because it's a pivotal point for Sesshoumaru as well as basically when he becomes a parent - and that's not a small thing.**

**To reiterate, this fic strictly observes a parent/ child relationship between Sesshoumaru and Rin. Anyway, thank you for reading, and I'd love to know your thoughts!**


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